Page 29 of My (Not So) Perfect Plan

“How are you getting home?” he asks.

“I texted Rachel while we were at the restaurant and asked her to come get me.”

He sighs and I see regret flicker in his eyes. “I wish I could drive you home.” He reaches up and gently slides a finger down my cheek. “Do this proper and kiss you good night.”

I roll my eyes. “Seriously, Evan, you are taking the fake boyfriend thing waay too far. No one is here to see your performance, remember?”

“Who says I’m performing?” He wets his lips nervously. I narrow my eyes at him. Of course he’s pretending. I’m no idiot. I know Evan is a flirt and after this six months or whatever it is that he needs me and I need him, he’ll drop me easily enough, and I’ll be left with a broken heart if I allow myself to get emotionally invested in us.

His eyes drop to my lips again, as if he’s asking permission to kiss me again. I know I should tell him no because what we have isn’t real, but at the same time, I don’t want to. Gateway drug, I remind myself even as I start leaning. Thankfully, the sound of a car driving up saves me from having to make a decision and breaks us apart.

I don’t know what to say to him. I don’t know what I think he should say to me. Rachel is waiting in her car. His hands slide down to capture mine.

“Monday, driver’s license test. Yeah?”

I swallow and nod, incapable of formulating words.

“And tonight…” he hesitates and when he continues his voice sounds oddly vulnerable. “Can I text you?”

I solemnly nod my head again.

“Are you going to be okay getting inside by yourself?” I ask.

“Are you going to walk me to the door?” he teases.

“I have to get my backpack anyway.” I point to the spot next to the door where I left it earlier.

I begin moving toward the door with him. At the top of the stairs he turns and captures my fingers in his one more time, kissing the back of them before winking at me and going inside. I grab my back pack, whirl on the steps, and run down to the car.

Rachel’s mouth is hanging open. Her eyes go from me to the door and back again.

“What on earth was that?” she shrieks. “I drive up and you are about to make out with our school’s hottest football player. What? How? When? And why didn’t you say anything?”

She shoves me in the shoulder. “Spill, woman.”

I start at the beginning and tell her the whole story. I haven’t finished before she pulls into my driveway.

“Call me. Tonight!” she demands. “Or we should set up a friend conference for Sunday.”

“Not Raven, he hates those.”

“Okay, yeah, you’re right. What about Saturday night then? We could do another girl’s night?”

I think back to Evan’s party and I don’t want to answer. She sees the look on my face and waves her hand. “We’ll figure it out. You better get inside before your curfew is shortened.”

“All right, chica, if nothing else, I’ll see you on Sunday,” I say as I hug her. “And I’ll call if I’m not too busy flirting with Evan.”

I hop out of the car, back pack in hand.

“What the?! Claire!” Rachel yells.

I stop and turn to lean down and look at her. She seems puzzled, but in a good way.

“I think Evan is good for you.”

I give her a huge grin. “The jury is still out on that one.”

I’ve only just laid down when my phone pings with a message.

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